


Miraculous Birthday Gifts

by carpetburnz



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I guess it's fluff and smut?, Love Bites, Making Out, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 02:33:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6034696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpetburnz/pseuds/carpetburnz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s birthday, and when Chat Noir personally visits her to present her with a gift, Marinette finds herself wanting to present her silly kitty with a gift herself.</p><p> <br/>(honestly my first fanfic had to be somewhat smutty & of this pairing)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miraculous Birthday Gifts

 

 

Marinette had been trying to fall asleep for hours that evening. She bustling and bubbling with elated bliss, and the lazy smile on her lips hadn’t faltered since it’d first surfaced earlier that morning. She tucked her knees tighter to her stomach on her bed, humming to herself as she hugged her arms around her chest. The sweater she wore was fluffy and soft and baby pink, and although Marinette’s inner designer had fallen in love with the garment because of its fabric and patterns and the Agreste label, Marinette had personally fallen in love with it because it had been a gift from her best friend Alya.

 

It hadn’t been unexpected. Alya had been proclaiming for a month about how she had been looking for a birthday present for Marinette, and she hadn’t bothered to be discreet about it either. Marinette had wanted to be modest and claim that she hadn’t been expecting anything from her best friend, but with all of Alya’s, _‘Marinette, what do you want for you birthday?’_ and, _‘I’m in not-so-secret cahoots with your mother, and I’m getting you a bomb-ass birthday present,’_ she couldn’t pull the whole _oh – you got that for me_ act. Nevertheless, Marinette cherished the sweater, and she would cherish it like she would cherish all the other gifts she received. A new sewing machine and bundles of fine fabric from her parents (that one had been expected, as she had been leaving very obvious hints for months), a pair of pink headphones from Nino (that one had been _very_ unexpected), and poor Marinette had almost fainted when Adrien had gingerly handed her a carefully wrapped gift.

 

 _'Sorry about the wrapping paper,’_ he had said, candy-green eyes dipping to the Agreste labelled wrapping paper (Marinette hadn’t even known that the Agreste fashion line had their own goddamn _wrapping paper_ ). _‘But happy birthday!’_ When he grinned at her, Alya had been forced to interfere to snap Marinette out of her blushing stupor. It was a sketchbook and pencil set, and Marinette had wanted to sit down in the corner and cry because Adrien Agreste hadn’t gone out and just bought her a birthday present out of whim – he _knew_ that she loved designing, and he made sure that his gift had catered to that passion of hers.

 

Marinette was already wearing Alya’s present, she’d used Nino’s present after she’d returned from school, and she would use her parent’s presents after she’d drawn out the designs using Adrien’s presents. She hummed to herself, stomach warm and fluttery, and she envisioned her pink chaise lounge, her collection of birthday gifts piled neatly on top of it. Honestly, she didn’t know how her birthday could get any –

 

A knock on the glass above her broke her out of her blissful trance, and Marinette’s eyes broke open quickly. Her jaw almost dropped when she looked up at the face leering through the window above her bed, vibrant green eyes seemingly smirking behind that all too familiar black mask. Marinette scrambled up and she unlatched the porthole, eyebrows furrowing as she jumped to the side before Paris’s leather-clad superhero slipped into her bedroom.

 

“Chat Noir?” Marinette said, and she regarded him curiously as he dropped to the soft mattress of her bed, pressing his back against the wall. Slowly, she lowered herself to her knees in front of him. “What brings you here?”

 

It wasn’t too unnatural for Marinette to receive occasional visits from Paris’s famous black cat; they’d started a little after they’d briefly teamed up against The Evillistrator, and his visits had actually been fairly pleasant. He acted different when he was with Marinette than he did when he was with Ladybug. He was still flirty and witty, and god, sometimes she thought that she would never be able to escape from his puns, and it was true that Chat Noir was as open as he was allowed to be whenever it came to Ladybug, but being with Marinette offered him the freedom to talk about other things other than akumas and saving Paris. For example, she had learned that Chat Noir loved the taste of raspberry; something that Ladybug would never have known if it weren’t for Marinette.

 

“Well,” Chat drawled, and Marinette noticed the way his eyes travelled over to the pile of gifts collected on the chaise lounge. “I heard that a _Purr_ incess was celebrating her birthday, today.”

 

Marinette rolled her eyes. “How did you manage to find that out?”

 

His eyes shifted to hers, and his lips stretched into a wide grin. “I was on patrol early this _meow_ ning when I heard two teenagers on their way to College Francoise Dupont chatting about a Marinette’s birthday today, so I couldn’t help but wonder, surely that has to be my princess?”

 

Marinette frowned, but she couldn’t help the small bubble of glee at knowing Chat cared enough to visit her on her birthday. She wanted to respond with wit and confidence, but as Chat shifted closer to her on the mattress, she quickly piped, “I’m happy that you came to see me.”

 

For the briefest of moments, Chat’s poise cracked, a light bloom blushing beneath the edges of his black mask, and Marinette pouted under his lingering gaze. “Of course, Princess,” Chat finally said, and he relaxed back against the wall. “Did you enjoy your birthday?”

 

"I did!” Marinette told him, and her earlier beam returned to her lips. “Everyone was so nice to me at school today – well, they always are, but today they were extra nice.” She paused, contemplating whether or not to admit to Chat that two girls in her class, Chloe and Sabrina, had treated Marinette as they usually did (like she was invisible, mostly) but decided against it. “I got all these amazing gifts, too, and I love every single one of them.”

 

Chat moved forward again, one arm resting leisurely on top of his upheld knee while the other reached out towards Marinette, and she almost smacked his hand away as the tips of his gloved fingers plucked gently at the sleeve of her new sweater. “This was a present?”

 

Marinette frowned – how had he known that? – but she nodded. “My best friend bought it for me. You know Alya? You and Ladybug had to fight with her when she was akumatised and transformed into Lady Wi-Fi.” She looked down at the fabric trapped between Chat’s claws. “It’s from the Agreste fashion line. I think the main reason she bought it for me is because she knows how much of an inspiration Gabriel Agreste is to me.”

 

The skin on Chat’s forehead creased, as if he were furrowing his eyebrows beneath his mask, and he withdrew his hand as he smiled at her, but it was unlike the smiles she received as Ladybug. Chat Noir’s smiles around Marinette were more open, more personal. “It suits you.” Marinette grinned as she looked down at her sweater, admiring it all over again, like she hadn’t already a hundred times since she’d opened the gift box. “Princess?”

 

“Chat?”

 

“Happy birthday.”

 

Marinette looked up to meet Chat’s eyes, her lips parting to voice her appreciation to him, but her breath caught in her throat as her gaze stopped at the open palm of his gloved hand. Sitting gently in his loose hold was a small gift pouch, no bigger than her Kwami, Tiki, and she could only barely make out the glint of gold metal through the green chiffon. “Chat Noir,” Marinette began. “Is that for me?”

 

“Especially for you on your birthday, Purrincess.” He extended his arm out further, prompting Marinette to accept his birthday offering, and slowly, as she bit down on the inside of her bottom lip, Marinette removed the pouch from Chat’s palm. She was slow and deliberate as she poked through the opening, loosening the thin ribbon string, and she was acutely aware of the superhero’s gaze on her face. Adrien and Nino had been unexpected enough – but this? The last thing Marinette expected was to open a birthday gift from Chat Noir.

 

Ladybug – sure, but definitely not Marinette.

 

She hadn’t really known what she’d been expecting, but her breath hitched as the first of the thin, golden chain slid into her palm, and her heart started to beat quickly in her chest. Oh god, oh no. Chat Noir could _not_ be buying gold jewellery for Marinette – for Ladybug – and her mouth had gone dry, but she opened her mouth to object anyway; this was way too much. “Chat, I –” Marinette’s voice cut short when the rest of the necklace slipped out of the pouch, and she stared down at the small gold pendant; a paw print. “L-listen –”

 

“Before you protest,” Chat interrupted. “I didn’t ask for a receipt, so I can’t take it back. Guess you’ll just have to keep it.” Marinette looked up at him, blue eyes wide and mouth agape, and she fumbled for words. Had that actually just happened? Had Chat Noir just bought Marinette Dupain-Cheng gold jewellery? “Put it on.”

 

“But I –”

 

“I would do it for you, Princess,” Chat offered, but he held up his gloved hands, wiggling his clawed fingertips. “But you can see how it would be a little difficult for me.”

 

Marinette swallowed as she nodded, and it took her three tries as she fiddled with the lobster clasp, and her eyes searched Chat’s as she fastened it around her neck. His green eyes lingered at the exposed skin above the sweater, never faltering, and Marinette began to feel her face grow warm. The small pendant draped between her two clavicle bones, cool against her bare skin, and she saw Chat nod approvingly. “Does it –” Marinette began nervously. “Does it look okay?”

 

“Pawsitively Purrfect,” Chat assured her.

 

“Stupid kitty.”

 

She felt torn, and her hands rested limply between her thighs. Marinette had always been so sure of what her heart wanted – Adrien. Adrien Agreste. For so long now, she had been so sure that she was in love with him, with his golden hair and apple green eyes, with his breathtaking smile and kind heart. Marinette was, to some degree, okay with her love for Adrien being unrequited. If it meant that her heart would belong to someone pure and compassionate, then Marinette was okay with it. But then there was Chat Noir – Ladybug’s trusted partner. Ladybug had always cared for him, and she’d do anything in her power to protect him, as she knew he would do in return for her. Somewhere along the way, when she was spending time with Chat as Marinette and not Ladybug, something had changed. He was still the Chat Noir that Ladybug knew and loved: funny, witty, clever, brave. But as Marinette, without the worry of battling akumas and beeping Miraculouses, she had been given the time to know him, actually _know_ him. And God, he was thoughtful and genuine and pure, and it wasn’t like she hadn’t known that before Chat met Marinette, but when Chat _did_ meet Marinette, all that thoughtfulness and genuineness and purity had drawn her in like a magnet. Marinette could give her heart away to someone like Chat Noir.

 

And that’s how she knew.

 

She knew when she began to doodle sketches of Chat Noir in her sketchbook.

 

She knew when she began to think of Chat Noir when she felt sad.

 

She knew when she began to feel butterflies in her stomach whenever Chat Noir came to visit Marinette in her bedroom.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had fallen for Chat Noir.

 

“Chat?” Marinette began slowly, and when she looked up, she was startled by the intensity of Chat’s green eyes. As if sensing her discomfort, Chat leant forward, his lips curling up as she squirmed. “I want to give you a gift.”

 

Behind the black mask, his eyebrow roused. “I don’t think that’s exactly how birthday’s work, Princess,” he drawled.

 

“This has nothing to do with birthdays,” she told him, her cheeks tinging pink when Chat’s lips parted. “It’s something I’ve wanted to give to you a while, actually.” Marinette waited for him to say something, hopefully something witty and stupid that would make her change her mind, but he was seemingly tongue-tied and Marinette wished that she could bottle up his quietness and save it for another day. Chat Noir was silent, eyes half-lidded but searching hers, and as she shuffled forward on the bed on her knees, heart in her throat as she felt his thighs brush against her hips.

 

“P-princess?” Chat began, and Marinette carefully pressed her palms on his shoulders. Without her gloves, she could feel the leather of his costume against her skin, smooth and surprisingly warm.

 

Marinette had never kissed anyone before. She would have absolutely no idea what to do and how to do it, and she could only hope that if Chat accepted her gift, he’d take the reigns and help her out. For now, she would go by what she had seen in movies. She wet her lips slightly (she had heard never to kiss anyone with dry lips) and then parted them, only a little to appear more enticing. Chat mirrored her ministrations, and Marinette’s stomach flipped. His hands were resting on her hips now, and she heard a voice inside her head scream in protest, while another (this voice sounded strangely like Tiki) told her to go in for the kill. When she felt Chat’s breaths stir with her own, her fingers curled into his shoulder blades, knuckles brushing against the wall he had propped himself against, and Marinette sighed as her body sunk against his. His forehead met hers first, and she closed her eyes as she felt Chat move around her, shifting their position so she was in his lap rather than between his thighs.

 

“Is that better?” Marinette whispered. Chat didn’t respond, but she felt his warm breath against her lips, and as her fingers stroked the leather from his shoulder to behind his neck and twined in his golden hair, his mouth moved against hers.

 

Warm. Chat Noir’s lips were warm and oh so soft, and Marinette felt a shudder run down her spine because who knew that this could feel so good? She tried pressing a kiss to his lower lip, slow and gentle, and then another one on his upper lip, and she didn’t have any idea what she was doing, but Chat’s gloved fingers rested along her jawline and he carefully nudged her lips further apart with the claw of his thumb. His bottom lip pressed into the parted seam of her mouth, his tongue only just flicking against her upper lip, and Marinette’s thighs tightened around Chat’s hips. She allowed Chat to take charge for the next few kisses until she got the gist of the whole making out thing, and she started to work, teasing his lips with hers, and brushing her tongue against the soft skin of his mouth. Their lips pulled at one another’s, their heavy breaths mingled, and when Marinette’s body began to grow restless and tingly and she was tempted lose herself, she breathlessly pulled back. Chat whined and when he tried to pull her face back to his, Marinette curled her fingers around his and pried his hands from her jaw. His face was flushed, his lips red, and his slitted pupils were the largest Marinette _or_ Ladybug had ever seen them.

 

“Marinette,” Chat breathed, and his tongue flicked against his lips. “You got the receipt for that gift? I think I need another one.”

 

Marinette’s breath hitched, and she pried away Chat’s leather collar with her fingers to kiss at the tanned skin of his throat. She wanted more, wanted to taste more, she wanted him. She sucked and licked at his skin, nibbling and nipping with her teeth where she found the place where his pulse jumped the most. His hands tightened around her hips, and when she felt his lips close around her clavicle, she arched into him with a raspy gasp. His mouth was hot and demanding, and Marinette found herself _mewling_ when he bit into the soft skin just above her breast.

 

"Chat,” she panted out, her fingers tangling into the thick locks of his hair.

 

"Princess,” he murmured against her skin. “Can I –”

 

“Do whatever you want,” Marinette blurted. “I don’t care, just don’t stop.”

 

Chat’s mouth latched onto her throat in the next second, wet lips drawing her skin into his mouth where he ruthlessly pulled and bit into it. It hurt a little, but oh if it wasn’t delightful at the same time, and each nip of his teeth sent jolts of pleasure to the very pit of Marinette’s stomach. She hadn’t realised that she’d been rolling her hips into his until Chat let out a very loud, very guttural groan, and she felt the heat surge all around her, igniting something deep inside of her. Marinette felt like her body had melted against his, she couldn’t tell where she ended and where he began; that was until, she felt the swell of stiffness between her thighs. A moan rolled off her tongue and she rolled her hips harder, and this time, when she moaned again, Chat moaned with her. Marinette tipped her head back and felt Chat’s mouth at her throat again, and she felt blind at the giddy arousal that had clouded the rational side of herself. Chat’s breaths were coming as fast, short pants on the wet skin of her neck, and his hands were gripped at her thighs, holding her down as he thrust up against her. He hissed, his groans steadily growing louder and throatier, and Marinette had to press her palm against his lips to muffle his grunts of pleasure. Her parents were home after all, and the absolute _last_ thing she wanted was for them to overhear. His eyes opened, long enough to meet hers, and then they rolled back again as Marinette rutted against him, eliciting _more_ noise from Chat.

 

"Be quieter,” Marinette wheezed, and Chat’s clawed fingertips shifted through her damp hair.

 

Through her palm, she heard Chat grunt, “I’m trying.”

 

Her stomach coiled and she pressed a palm to her own mouth to suppress her moans of pleasure. She was vibrating and pulsing and she could feel Chat all around her, his hands searching her body like he wanted to chart every dip and curve, and Marinette could hardly even think anymore. His hand hooked beneath her left knee, and she didn’t know how he had managed it, but their bodies were pressed closer and harder, and Marinette saw white dance across her vision as Chat struck against her, once, twice, and she sunk her teeth into the leather of his shoulder as she heard herself unravel _loudly_. Her thighs trembled, her panties were wet and sticky, and she could feel Chat’s chest heaving as he breathed heavily against the top of her head. Her eyes closed against her own will, and she listened to the sound of Chat’s heart, frantic and erratic. Marinette had been happy to stay there, slumped against Chat’s chest as she caught her breath, but he slipped out from under her, carefully shifting her comfortably in her bed and gently tucking her in.

 

It was at that moment when Marinette finally remembered what had just happened. Not only had she made out with Chat Noir, but they'd also been _grinding_ against one another, and now, well. He was tucking her into bed.

 

"Chat?” Marinette asked as she felt him move away. She opened her eyes, mind instantly flashing back to what they had just done moments ago when she caught sight of his dishevelled hair and swollen lips, and she saw that he was reaching up for the porthole. “You’ll visit me again, tomorrow, right?”

 

Chat smiled, and he knelt down again on the mattress to press a chaste kiss to Marinette’s lips, and then another to her forehead. “Of course, Princess,” he promised, and as Marinette closed her eyes, she heard him say, “Happy birthday, Marinette.”


End file.
